


Keraunopathy

by celluloid



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Child Abuse, Gangs, Gangsters, Gen, Homelessness, Kid Fic, Minor Character Death, Orphans, Pre-Series, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 11:46:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2268519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celluloid/pseuds/celluloid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(noun) (uncountable) The pathology of lightning; The scientific study of the effects of lightning on living things, with emphasis on its anatomic and functional effects.</p><p>(Or, a street urchin's relationship with lightning.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Aah, it's been like two years since I've actually written fic!
> 
> So, this started coming about for two reasons: I wanted to read some brotherly fic exploring Mako and Bolin's past, and ended up writing stuff out myself; and I don't really like how lightning was treated as a big deal in the first series but there's been little acknowledgment of it in this one. So the two got married together, and, here's this.
> 
> I have a good idea where this is going, but don't know what the endgame is gonna be yet, so I'll be adding applicable tags as more chapters go up.

**_4._ ** _“I wish I could have met him.”_

Growing up, Mako’s favourite book was a selection of Iroh quotes. There were three reasons for this: the text on the quotes themselves was big and easy to read, and there were often accompanying illustrations that he loved; everything written seemed so wise, and just by reading, he felt as though he was learning more than he could from anywhere else; and even though he didn’t quite understand all of it, reading it made him feel like an adult.

Thanks to doting parents he was well on his way to reading longer books while still at a young age, but the quotes always brought him back. He knew a little bit of world history, and all the adults he knew always spoke about Iroh with such reverence, he always wanted to go back and study the late firebending master’s words, just in case he’d missed something.

It was from the book he first learned about lightningbending. The words didn’t really make much sense to him, and the additional analysis proved even more difficult to read. But he understood the artwork, seeing lightning shoot out from a man’s fingertips and up into the sky. It was both beautiful and awesome. He wanted to do it.

Mako would study the picture and try shooting his hands up in the same way, but nothing ever happened. Other books had form diagrams, and he would practice them as best he could, but could never seem to commit them to memory or do much but feel his own body heat.

Sometimes he would fantasize about meeting the man. He liked to think Iroh would be impressed with how mature he was at a young age, and how he always looked out for his little brother, and then maybe Iroh would teach him.

Mako knew it wasn’t possible, but whenever he was cooped up inside, staring out at a rainstorm that never wanted to be anything more, he could always dream.

 

 **_5._ ** _“It’s cool. But sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe.”_

He was not allowed to firebend inside the apartment. That much was made very, very clear from the first incident.

But Mako’s parents weren’t home right now, and he wanted to prove himself. Besides, it was too cold outside. It was kind of cold inside, too, or at least he assumed so, judging by the way Bolin had collected every blanket he could get his hands on and crawled underneath them.

He made sure to step away from anything that could easily catch, and found himself in the centre of the living room. Curtains way over there, bookshelf on the other side of the room, little brother in a ball of blankets on the couch. There was a rug beneath his feet, but that couldn’t be helped.

Mako stood, closed his eyes, and focused on taking deep breaths. It didn’t take long for his mind to clear, concentrating only on the air and heat filling him. Eventually he slowly opened his eyes and brought his palm up, willing something to happen.

A small flame burst to life in his palm. Mako’s eyes widened slightly before he brought his other hand up, cradling the flame to his chest, making sure it wasn’t going to go out or leave him or hurt something.

When he was sure things were okay, he held his hands out from his body and willed the flame to get bigger, feeding it more of his energy. It responded, growing large enough that he needed both hands to hold it.

A curious Bolin head emerged from the blanket fortress. “Whoa,” he breathed. “You’re not cold?”

Mako shook his head. “Kinda? Not really.”

Bolin rolled off the couch, landing with a graceless, muffled thump atop the blankets. With one still hanging about his shoulders, he made his way over to his older brother. Mako, in turn, sat down, keeping his focus on the fire but allowing Bolin to bring his hands up for warmth. Bolin smiled gratefully.

“This is so nice,” he said. “What’s it like?”

“Actually kinda scary,” Mako answered truthfully. Bolin met his eyes, frowning. “But I like it. I wanna get really good at it.”

“Think I could do it?”

Mako paused to think. “Maybe,” he said. “Are you warm now?”

“Yeah! Thank you,” Bolin said, leaning in closer. Mako instinctually lowered the flame. Bolin pouted.

“Hey, it’s still kinda scary,” Mako defended himself. “It can hurt. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Bolin scrunched up his nose. “That’s why there’s water,” he said. “Hey! What if you got really wet, what would you do?”

“I’ve been really wet before! When we got stuck in the rain at the park,” Mako replied. “I wouldn’t do anything. I’d be wet.”

“I mean if you got in a fight with a waterbender.”

“I don’t wanna fight anybody!”

“But what if you had to? A waterbender would beat you up.”

Mako narrowed his eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?”

“I am!” Bolin protested. “That’s why I’m asking! So if it happens you’ll be ready!”

“You aren’t even giving me a chance here!”

“’Cause water beats fire!” Bolin stuck his tongue out at him.

Mako huffed in displeasure. He paused. “Well,” he said, slowly, “really, really good firebenders can make lightning. I don’t think water can beat lightning. It’s different.”

Bolin’s eyes widened. “Can _you_ make lightning?”

“No,” Mako admitted, “but I wanna learn. It looks cool. But it’s probably really hard…”

“Could _I_ make lightning?”

“You need to make fire first, dummy.”

Bolin glared at his brother. He was about to retort when they both heard the sound of the front door opening. Mako nearly fell over in shock, gasping and extinguishing the flame immediately. Bolin jumped up, blanket still draped around his small body, running towards the door.

“Moooom! Mako was playing with fire inside the house!”

 

 **_6._ ** _“I wanna go out there.”_

While his brother was on the floor drawing, Mako had his face pressed up against the window in their room. The light from inside made it difficult to see past his reflection, but he persisted anyway, keeping a close eye on the storm clouds way up above.

Bolin looked up from his paper, on it a crude rendering of his favourite pro-bender. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“It’s a thunderstorm,” was all Mako said in response, as if that explained everything.

“Yeah…”

Mako didn’t take his eyes off the window. “I’m watching for the lightning. Maybe I can learn something.”

Bolin sat up. “Thunderstorm lighting comes from clouds. You aren’t a cloud.”

“Duh,” Mako said. “But it’s about energy. Something about separating it or something. Maybe that’s what the cloud does.”

“But you don’t look like a cloud. So even if a cloud does it, how would you know how to do it?”

“I don’t know! That’s why I’m watching.” Mako paused. “I should be outside for this.”

“No, no, no,” Bolin said, shifting so as to block the door. “No way. I heard lightning is dangerous.”

“It can be… But if you know what you’re doing, it’s not.”

“You don’t know what you’re doing!”

Mako ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “That’s why I’m trying to learn!”

“Well you’re not going outside,” Bolin said. “’Sides, you’ll get sick, and then I’ll get sick, and then I’ll feel yucky and be really, really mad at you.”

Mako frowned. “I didn’t say I was _gonna_.”

“Well, I’m not gonna let you.” Bolin crossed his arms. “And Mom and Dad for sure won’t let you, so there.”

“Okay!” Mako threw up his hands. “I just think it would be better to watch. And it would be cool.”

“Until you get sick.”

“I’m not going outside, Bolin.”

“Well, good.”

 

 **_8._ ** _“I just wish I got to do more.”_

“You ever wonder what it’s like to be a grown up?”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Mako said. He and Bolin were walking home from school, passing down a familiar, busy street near where they lived. “Why?”

Bolin was eyeing some of the food stands. “Grown ups have money, and they can buy whatever they want whenever they want.” He clutched his stomach. “And I’m hungry.”

“We can get food at home. There are snacks, and Mom’s probably making dinner.”

“Yeah, but I’m hungry now!”

Mako snorted. “I think part of being a grown up means you have to wait sometimes.” He put his hands in his pockets, feeling how empty they were. “I don’t think grown ups always get everything they want, either.”

Bolin frowned. “You’re not helping.”

“Sorry,” Mako laughed. “I’m older, though, so that means I’m right.”

“No it doesn’t!”

“What is it Dad always says? ‘Bolin, listen to your brother’?” Mako said smugly. “When he and Mom aren’t around I’m in charge. Like right now. And I say you wait to eat.”

“You like being in charge too much,” Bolin grumbled, kicking a rock in his path. “I should get to be in charge too.”

Mako’s features softened. “Well, it’s not like I get to do a lot. Sometimes I wish I had more responsibilities. And do more cool things, and be bigger, and stronger. But then I think about how hard Mom and Dad are always working, and maybe it’s better we don’t do that right now.”

“It would be cool, though, right? Like we could eat as much candy as we want.”

“And stay up as late as we want.”

“And never take baths!”

Mako wrinkled his nose. “I would make you take baths. You get dirty and smelly all the time.”

Bolin smiled proudly. “I’m an earthbender, it’s what I do!”

“Even earthbenders take baths.”

“Well I wouldn’t.”

“And that’s why I’m in charge,” Mako said, leading his little brother into the building. “I’m bigger and older and wiser, so when Mom and Dad aren’t around, you gotta listen to me.”

 

_**_8._**  _

Bolin wasn’t sure what to make of the sudden loud banging on the door. It had just woken him up, and a quick scan of the place told him he was home alone. So he eyed the door warily, staying back until the pounding stopped, and he heard a small voice come through calling his name.

Bolin reached up to undo the lock, then opened the door a crack. He opened it all the way when he saw just his brother standing there. “Mako,” he said, and when he didn’t respond, he pulled him in. Bolin poked his head out the entrance, looking around. “Where’re Mom and Dad?”

Mako didn’t respond. Bolin turned back to face him. When he looked, really looked, at his brother, he saw him covered in scrapes and dirt, with a little bit of dried blood on his skin. He was quiet and smelled like smoke and fire and something else Bolin couldn’t quite place, but hated instantly. And he looked much smaller than he could ever remember seeing him.

“Mako?”

Mako looked up, and Bolin could see he was fighting back tears. “I—“ He swallowed. That’s when Bolin noticed he was wringing his hands in their dad’s bright red scarf, the one he always seemed to have on him.

Bolin reached out for it. “That’s Dad’s scarf,” he said. “Where’s Dad?”

Mako’s eyes were empty. “I—“ he repeated, then shook his head, reorienting himself. “Shut the door, Bolin,” he croaked. “Lock it. Don’t answer it for anybody.”

“Why?” Bolin asked, but complied anyway. “Mako. Where are Mom and Dad?”

Mako just looked down at the ground. “I should have been stronger. I should have—I can bend fire, I should have been able to protect them. He just—He came out of nowhere, and Dad pushed me away, and I didn’t know what to do so I watched and then he saw me and Mom told me to run so I did and—“ Mako shuddered, clenching his eyes shut as the tears finally started to come. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Bolin didn’t say anything as his brother kept repeating the words over and over, he just wrapped Mako in the biggest hug he could. Mako’s body gave against him, and Bolin stumbled, lowering them both to the ground, holding his big brother tightly despite the dirt and blood and smell. Mako didn’t protest, still murmuring the words like a mantra.

He would find out what happened later, but Bolin got the feeling his parents weren’t coming home that night – so there wouldn’t be anybody to get upset when he and his brother eventually dozed off on the floor.

 

 **_8._ ** _“I miss you.”_

Mako genuinely had no idea what to do.

He’d woken up, eyes raw, and felt his entire being go cold as soon as he remembered what had happened. Then he looked down to see Bolin, still asleep, still looking peaceful. So he’d gone to their room, grabbed a pillow and blanket off of Bolin’s bed, and adjusted them accordingly before going to the kitchen to try to make some kind of breakfast.

He didn’t know how long he’d stared at his hands before he started looking for matches.

He did the same thing at dinner that night, and Bolin had asked him about it. Mako couldn’t find the words – he hadn’t spoken all day – and Bolin’s features took a quick turn from curious to upset, so Mako had just turned away and resumed trying to cook.

He tried to grieve, but every time he saw Bolin, he realized he didn’t have time for that. So Mako pushed the thoughts, the sights, the sounds, the smells out of his head. He fixated solely on the future: wake up, need to make breakfast. What would be for dinner that night? How much food did they have left? How was he going to get more?

He spent his time scouring the apartment for anything that looked valuable. He collected all the money his parents had left lying around, as well as anything that looked like it could sell. When they started running low on food, he froze: did he take Bolin with him, where he could get hurt? Did he leave Bolin alone at home, when he might never see him again?

“Bo,” Mako said, “I need you to stay at home. Lock the door. Don’t open it for anybody, not until I get back, okay?”

“Really?” Bolin asked, and the incredulous, almost angry tone made Mako pause. He turned back to look at him questioningly. “Mako. It’s been days. You haven’t talked to me in days, and this is the first thing you say?” His fists clenched, and his expression was just barely held back fury.

Mako’s stomach dropped. “I—“

Bolin’s features softened. “Mako, if… if Mom and Dad are really… not coming back, then you’re all I have. Please don’t… You look so sad all the time, and when I ask you what I can do, it’s like you don’t even hear me. I’m thankful for the food, I am, but you’re my brother.”

Mako let the words wash over him. He looked away from Bolin, ashamed. He bit his lip. “Bo… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He stood there, arms hanging limply at his sides. “Do… Do you want to come with me? I was just going to get more food. Just a really quick trip.”

Bolin smiled softly. “Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Okay,” Mako said. “But we have to stay together the whole time.”

“Didn’t wanna leave you anyway, bro.”

Mako smiled.

 

 _**8.** _ _“We shouldn’t forget.”_

They’d been living quietly at home, rarely stepping outside, when one day the knocking finally came to their door.

Bolin looked to Mako, but Mako shook his head, putting a finger to his lips, so Bolin followed his lead and remained quiet. The two waited for it to stop, and when after what felt like forever it finally did, a piece of paper was slid under the floor. It wasn’t until they could faintly hear footsteps walking away that Mako went over to get it.

His face paled when he read it.

“What?” Bolin asked.

Mako shook his head. “We need to start packing our stuff. We need to go.”

“Go where?”

Mako paused. “I… I don’t know. But we can’t stay here. They’ll kick us out. They’ll.. If they find us, they’ll split us up… We need to go.”

Bolin looked as though he had more questions, but looking at his brother’s face, he seemed to think better of asking.

Mako shut his eyes and leaned against the wall. He dropped the paper, letting it flutter to the ground. Bolin hesitated, then came over to hug him. “Hey, it’ll be okay. We’ve made it this far. We’ll get through anything together, right?”

The older brother bit his lip, then seemed to think better of it. He smiled gently, uncertainly. “Yeah. We will.”

They gathered as much as they could into their small bags, rolling clothes and blankets until they couldn’t fit any more in. Bolin grabbed their toothbrushes and bent a small casing for the soap bar they still had while Mako took smaller pouches and divided their remaining money. He hid their mother’s jewelry from Bolin, not wanting him to know he was eventually going to try to pawn it off.

Just before they were going to leave for the last time, Bolin froze in his steps. He dropped his bag on the floor and suddenly ran off. He was back before Mako could say anything, carrying their dad’s scarf.

Mako took a step back.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Bolin said. “Actually, I don’t, but… you should have this.” He approached Mako and, when his older brother didn’t move, started wrapping it around his neck. The material sank nearly to his knees, but still he didn’t move.

Finally, Mako took a deep breath. “You ready?”

Bolin went back to get his bag. He looked around. “Yeah.”

 

 **_8._ ** _“I’ll keep you warm.”_

Neither of them had ever been outside late at night, when the sun went down and there were only streetlights.

The sunset had been mostly hidden to them as they’d made their way through the streets towards the heart of the city – “More people will be there, right? So that’s where we should go. Maybe someone can help us,” Mako had reasoned – but they couldn’t deny when the sky went completely dark. There were still city lights to guide their way, and there were still a lot of adults milling around, but it wasn’t anything like the Republic City they knew.

Bolin looked up at his older brother. “What do we do now?”

Mako looked around, trying to find something familiar, but came up short. Nobody their age was around, and none of the shops they would have been used to were open. Nobody stopped to see what was the matter, and realization set in on Mako: to the entire world, they were nothing more than two street rats.

He was in over his head. And he still had to look after his little brother.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

“Should we just… keep walking? I’m not tired.” Bolin paused, then, in a smaller voice, “I’m too scared to be tired.”

Mako wanted to say he was, too, but knew he couldn’t. Instead he squeezed his little brother’s hand. “Let’s just keep going until we find some place we can sleep.”

That place never materialized, and when Bolin started to drag his feet, Mako looked about frantically. Across the street was a closed off alleyway, so he led his brother over there and crouched down in between a fence and dumpster.

Bolin scrunched his nose, but was too tired to protest.

“We’ll find something tomorrow, I promise,” Mako said.

Bolin yawned, resting his head against Mako’s shoulder. He shivered. “It’s cold outside.”

Mako stared up at the moon. “Yeah. We should get out some blankets.”

Bolin shut his eyes and slumped further down. “Could you make me a fire?”

Mako’s heart skipped a beat. He looked at his hands, saw fire coming from them, consuming his parents, screaming, the smell of burning flesh filling his nose. He looked at Bolin, uncomfortable expression on his face, trying to make himself smaller. He looked back at his hands.

Bolin’s face softened against the glow of the fire. “Thanks, big bro.”

Mako watched as his brother fell into a peaceful sleep. He had one hand wrapped around his shoulders, the other cautiously holding a small source of heat. He stared at his own fire, realizing: it wasn’t the same.

Realizing: the world didn’t care about him. He was an easy target. He was going to need to learn to use it in the same way.

Realizing: lightning looked cool, that’s why he’d fixated on it so much when he was younger. Only the best could use it, and he wanted to be one of them. But it was also dangerous. And if he could harness that power…

He stared up at the clear sky, his fire dying as his eyelids fell, hiding in an alley corner, realizing: this was going to be his life.


	2. Chapter 2

**_9._ ** _“I could feel it. It was there, right under my fingertips. I could feel it.”_

Bolin had proven really good at keeping them fed. He was small and cute, with big eyes and an even bigger smile. He was happy and full of innocence whenever he’d tug on someone’s clothes, looking down abashedly before saying, “Um, I lost my mommy and don’t have any money for the train, and it’s the only way I know to get back home. Can you help me, please?”

Mako knew he was never going to be able to pull that off. He didn’t have the charisma or the acting ability. So whenever Bolin would trot up with a few yuans he was always sure to tell him how proud he was, and let him pick that night’s dinner, as long as they could afford it.

Then there were the times Bolin’s work didn’t pay off, and he’d come back to his brother hurt and distraught, and Mako would tell him it was okay: some days just weren’t going to be that good.

Then there were the times Bolin actually pissed someone off, and with Mako not always around, he’d have to make a run for it, sometimes creating clouds of dust to help him lose his pursuers. The brothers were among the smallest kids out on the streets, and they knew if they got into a fight, it wasn’t likely to end well.

So when Bolin didn’t return to their current makeshift shelter when the sun started to go down, Mako got worried. They’d been out on the streets nearly a year now, and while it hadn’t been easy, things weren’t all bad. They could always rely on one another, and that made it okay.

No Bolin was not okay.

Mako ventured out to the square near where they spent most of their time to try to find him. All the tall adults in the way made it difficult, so he stuck to the outer edges, any beaten off routes that might point him in the right direction.

He was rewarded when he saw a small earthbent wall, so he started running towards it. He slowed when he realized what was happening: three figures were there, two much bigger than him, and one of them was holding his little brother up by the collar of his worn shirt.

Mako stopped and started shifting in a wide arc to get another look at the situation, keeping an eye on Bolin the entire time.

The other two guys were bigger, but they weren’t adults; Mako guessed they were older teenagers, and from the looks of them, they were used to a harsh street life. Bolin had probably accidentally insulted them, and only made it worse by not knowing how to deal with it.

On closer inspection, one of them appeared to have a somewhat messed up face, and judging by the additional upturned earth, Mako smirked, proud of his brother. On even closer inspection, his humour disappeared completely when he got close enough to hear what one of them was saying.

“So you think hitting my brother is funny, do ya?” the one holding Bolin up growled. The other was crouching on the ground, his hand pressed up to his nose to stifle the bleeding, glaring at Bolin.

“No! Well, the look on his face—No, sir, it wasn’t—“ Bolin got cut off when he drew his fist back and hit him.

With a cry of rage merging with his brother’s own of pain, Mako sprang into action. Single-minded and with clear focus, he shot fireballs in the general direction of the two teenagers, startling them as they went wide. He continued forward, and for a second, nothing happened, causing him to look down at his hands in bewilderment. It gave the other two time to recover; the one holding Bolin gripping him with both hands now, hard enough to bruise; the one on the ground directing a path of upturned earth towards Mako.

Mako tried to jump out of the way, but his feet got caught in the earth, causing him to fall forward and hit the ground hard. He felt the wind knocked out of him and took a moment before pushing himself back up by his clenched fists, taking a deep breath as he called fire back towards them. Snarling, he let the flames grow bigger and bigger with rage and pain. “Let him go,” he spat, “or the next one hits your face.”

The one holding Bolin laughed, mockingly moving him up to block his own face. The injured one removed his hand from his nose, standing up to his full height. He was easily more than twice Mako’s size, and the blood coating the lower half of his face made him look scarier. He smiled, showing off crooked, stained teeth. “What are you going to do about it, pipsqueak?”

Mako hesitated. He didn’t really want to burn a guy’s face. He remembered his parents and his fire started to die. He did not want to do this, he didn’t want to be a part of it.

Bolin was squirming in panic, but was too small to be able to free himself. In his own panic, Mako willed himself not to cry. He couldn’t cry. Not in front of these guys. Not on the streets.

The two teenagers shared a look, smirking. “This yours?” the one holding up Bolin asked him.

“He’s my brother,” Mako choked out, staring up and feeling helpless and defeated.

“Well, then you should tell your brother not to fuck with people. Especially people bigger than him.” He shook Bolin, cuffing him on the head. “Right, you little shit?”

Bolin’s whimper gave Mako new resolve. He narrowed his eyes and assumed a stance. “Let him go.”

“Oh, are you going to try fighting again? You really think you can take us?”

Mako flexed his hands. “Don’t try me.”

“Tough guy!” the one with the bloodied face laughed, stomping on the ground, readying chunks of earth. Mako waited until the last possible moment, but when the rocks started coming towards him, he dodged them as best he could, sending fire towards them to try to break them up.

A few pieces ended up hitting him, a small one grazing him just above his eye and a larger one hitting him right in the stomach, sending him back, forcing him to shut his eyes and flail, which resulted in continuous streams of fire being sent in random directions, Mako having completely lost control.

A scream and it all seemed to stop. He heard a thud and tried to open his eyes, having to bring a hand up to one to stop blood from getting into it. He saw Bolin rushing over to him, noticing just behind him his captor’s leg had burn marks.

Mako sat there, breathing heavily at the revelation, watching with one eye as the one who had bent at him picked up his brother and, in one last move, sent a boulder towards them while fleeing towards a nearby fountain in the square. Bolin quickly brought up a small earth wall, and the force of the resulting collision blew him back onto his older brother’s stunned body.

It took them a moment for it to sink in before they got up and ran.

They only stopped when they’d reached the other side of the square, closer to where they were calling home for the time being. Both stooped over, hands on knees, chests heaving, trying to regain their breath.

Mako was the first to recover. “What was that all about?”

Bolin took a moment. “Nothing! I didn’t even do anything! Those guys just came at me!” He sighed. “I just tried to defend myself.”

Mako looked over his brother, not quite as visible now in the dimming light. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone softening. He was covered in dust, and his arms were already bruising, but he looked fine otherwise.

“Kinda sore,” Bolin grimaced, “but okay otherwise, yeah.” He looked over at his brother, taking in the scrapes and dirt. “Are you? You’re bleeding.”

“I know,” Mako said, rubbing at his eyelid. “I’m fine. I think it’s stopping. It doesn’t hurt.”

Bolin looked at him sceptically. Mako growled. “It doesn’t!” he lied.

“Okay, okay,” Bolin said, raising his hands up in exasperation. “If you say so.” Mako huffed and started leading the way back to their small shelter, a sealed off, earthbent alcove. Bolin trotted after him. “So… that was fun. Let’s not do that again, right?”

Mako shook his head. Bolin stared at him. “You _want_ to do that again?”

“I don’t _want_ to,” Mako replied, “I just think we’re going to _have_ to. This is the world we live in now. Nobody cares about us. Nobody’s going to help us. It’s probably going to happen again, and again, and again. We have to stand up for ourselves.” He fell silent for a while, replaying things in his mind. “If that means we have to hurt people… then we have to hurt people.” He looked away. “I don’t want to, but if that’s what has to be done, then I’ll do it.” He grit his teeth. “I’ll be ready next time. I’m not going to let anything happen to you again.”

“You shouldn’t,” Bolin said quietly. “I use my bending to keep us safe. To give us shelter. You use yours to keep us warm. We shouldn’t use it for anything else.” When Mako just shook his head in response, Bolin pressed further. “What would Mom and Dad think?”

Mako rubbed at his eye, certain the bleeding above it had stopped, feeling a vicious spike of annoyance at his brother’s words. “It doesn’t matter what they would think. They’re gone. What do you think happened to them?” He brought a small flame to life in their shelter, illuminating the sealed off darkness. He ignored Bolin’s now-visible features as he played with the fire, making small, trailing patterns as he sent it back and forth between both his hands.

Bolin was silent for a while. “Mako?” he asked. “What happened?”

“A firebender happened,” he replied, not taking his eyes off his own flame. “It… I can keep us safe, Bo. I can use it right. For us. We’re both so lucky we can bend… We can’t let that gift go to waste.”

He paused.

“I think I almost lightningbent.”

“What?”

Mako looked up. “What do you think lightningbending can do, other than protect us?”

“But you can’t bend lightning,” Bolin said. “That’s so advanced. So few people can do it. Not even a lot of the old masters could. And we’re so little.”

“I can learn,” Mako replied, eyes dead but determined. “I’m going to have to. It’s dangerous, but so is our world. People wouldn’t… Nobody would think they could do what they did to you today.”

“Mako, no.” Bolin’s voice was strained. Mako didn’t respond.

They stared at the small flame until Mako snuffed it out.

 

**_9._ ** _“What if we made it a game?”_

They often spent their nights in a cramped space, which didn’t always make for the best mornings, especially when they went to sleep upset with one another. Fortunately, that didn’t happen often, but when it did, the walls were crushing and air suffocating.

They had warmth and shelter pretty much always covered, so priority number one for Mako on waking up every day was food. Well – the real priority number one was always Bolin, but that was assumed. When that wasn’t the case, he was profoundly uncomfortable. He didn’t have Bolin’s knack for talking to people. Conversation and socialization were the younger brother’s forte, not his. _People_ were Bolin’s forte.

So Mako was at a loss as to how to greet his brother when the sun came up.

He was the early riser of the two, so he slipped out, ducking into the nearby alleyway to practice forms. It was something he’d woken up to from the night before: if he was going to get good, he needed to do this on a regular basis. They’d been lucky to make it this far without any run-ins, he reasoned. Statistically unlikely so. If they were going to survive, he needed to train on a regular basis. What better time than when the world was still waking up? He could clear his mind in the quiet.

Midway through feeling his way through a possible practice routine, he felt eyes on him. Mako dropped his stance to find Bolin watching him from the alleyway’s entrance.

“What are you doing?”

“Practicing,” Mako answered. “Wanna join me?”

Bolin gave him a hard look. Mako sighed.

“It’s not about fighting… It’s about staying on top of our games. That’s something we should be doing anyway, right? Just in case,” he amended. “Isn’t that what the pros do?”

Bolin’s eyes lit up at that. “Yeah!” he said, running over to join his brother. “They have to practice _all_ the time. For hours and _hours_. One time I even read that Toza spent the _whole day_ practicing right before he and the Boar-q-pines won the championship!” He took a deep breath and settled. “Okay, okay. What’s first?”

“I don’t know,” Mako shrugged. “I was kinda just making it up as I went along.”

“We should look into this,” Bolin decided, pounding his fist against his palm for emphasis. “I’m going to look into this. Maybe we could go pro! Then we’d have fame _and_ money!”

“Bo…”

“Yeah, think about it!” Bolin blissfully carried on, staring off into a future only he could see. “Pro-benders bend for a living. We could do that! We’re already doing it!” He spun around to face his brother. “Mako, you’re a genius! As long as you don’t start talking crazy again, what with the hurting people and lightningbending weirdness and all.”

“I wasn’t talking crazy…”

“Yeah, you kinda were. Oh! And there’s no lightning in pro-bending, so, if we’re gonna make it – which we are! – you should focus on fire.” He held up a hand. “I know what you’re gonna say, and it’s cool, because we’re learning self-defence too, because that’s a part of pro-bending, offence and defence, and that’s what you wanted, right? This does everything for us!” His stomach growled. “… Except that.”

Mako couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, okay, but we still need to think about eating. I was thinking of doing this every morning, and maybe before bed too, but we seriously need to spend the day on getting food. We won’t get far if we’re hungry.”

Bolin looked down at his small frame. “I guess,” he said. “Still, I’m gonna try to look this up! I bet it would fix everything! And it would be so cool!” He turned to go. “You’re the best, big bro! See you later!”

Mako waited until Bolin was gone before slumping against the wall, sighing. As long as his little brother was set on learning self-defence now, for whatever reason, then he was sure it was going to be okay. But thinking of becoming professionals was too far off in the future for him to consider, not when he wasn’t sure if they would even make it to that age.

He pushed that thought aside, but couldn’t completely rid his mind of it as he resumed trying to recapture the feeling of energy separation, sparks just waiting under his skin.

 

**_10._ ** _“I don’t think you’re okay.”_

“You’re doing it again.”

Mako looked up from the small pot of noodles he was trying to cook, raising his eyebrow quizzically. Bolin sighed.

“You’re shutting me out. I don’t like it. I _told_ you I don’t like it. You know you can always come to me, right?”

Mako reached for the words. Couldn’t find them. Went back to trying to make dinner.

Bolin sighed loudly. “You’re not taking me seriously. Fine. Whatever.” He stood. “I can’t be around this.”

“Bo, wait!”

Bolin turned back, eyes tired and humourless. Mako faltered, could only come up with, “Don’t go.” He watched his brother watching him, not moving. “Please,” he added on, internally distressed at how empty the words sounded to him.

His brother dropped his head in defeat. “Does this mean you’re ready to talk?”

Mako stared. “What’s there to talk about?”

“You,” Bolin spat, pointing an accusatory finger. “You and your… your… your whole, self-sacrificing, and taking on everything, and refusing help, and shutting yourself in, and, and just ignoring me.”

“I don’t ignore you—“

“Yes you do!” Bolin cried, throwing his hands up. “You practice and you scam and you steal, and then you fought that guy last week—“

“He was trying to steal from _me_ —“

“And the week before—“

“He was trying to push me around—“

“See, that’s the thing!” Bolin said. “It doesn’t matter! Just walk away! If you have to defend yourself, fine, but I saw you start bending first! Why? Why do you do that? I thought we agreed we weren’t going to do that.”

Mako looked into his brother’s eyes. “We need to prove we’re not easy targets. We need to prove we’re guys people aren’t gonna wanna mess with. That’s how we’re gonna survive, when we have a reputation that tells people to stay out of our way.”

“Is that what you want?” Bolin asked. “To prove you’re a tough guy?” When Mako didn’t respond, just giving his brother a look that confirmed it as the most obvious thing in the world, Bolin took it as his cue to continue. “Is that why you don’t talk to me? Is that why you pretend like you don’t have feelings? I—Mako, I know you have nightmares.”

“Bolin, I don’t—“

“No!” Bolin stomped the ground for emphasis. “Whatever you were gonna say there, stop. Sometimes you wake me up in the middle of the night, crying for Mom and Dad or… or for me. And, and I don’t know what to do, you don’t wake up, so I kind of just watch you, to make sure you’re okay, before you calm back down. And then in the morning you act like nothing happened, you just go outside and take everything out on a wall. I _see_ it, Mako. Why don’t you come to me?”

Mako bit his lip and stared down at his hands, unwilling to face his brother – and judging by Bolin’s loud and aggravated groan, this wasn’t helping. “I don’t want you to worry,” he said in a small voice. “Ever since Mom and Dad—I just want you to be happy.”

“I can’t be happy if _you’re_ never happy,” Bolin said, sitting down on a rock across from Mako. “You can’t hide it, bro. You never could. Not from me.”

“I’m sorry,” Mako said.

“Can you do something for me?” Bolin asked. Mako looked back up at him, but didn’t react otherwise. Bolin took a moment. “Just… If you’re feeling stressed, or sad, or worried or anything bad, just talk to me? Stop bottling it up inside you. I know we don’t have much, but we need more than just food and shelter and money. We need happiness. If you aren’t happy, let me help. You do so much for me, and I try but… Just let me do something for you.”

The silence stretched out as Mako mulled over Bolin’s words. He didn’t think it would be good for him to add all his worries on top of whatever else Bolin had to deal with in a life he didn’t deserve – that he was worried about starving to death, or getting killed just like their parents, leaving Bolin behind and experiencing just how hard it was solo, how they were supposed to make it in a world that didn’t want them – but if Bolin was already upset…

“Please, Mako,” Bolin pleaded further. “We’re brothers. You don’t have to take on everything by yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” Mako repeated. He met Bolin’s eyes again. “I don’t want to,” and he surprised himself by how much he meant it. “You’re right. About everything.” He swallowed. “I’m not okay,” he continued, surprising himself as his eyes started to water. Bolin moved over to embrace him, and he tentatively returned it. “I’m—I miss Mom and Dad. I miss them so much.”

“Me too,” Bolin said.

“I’m terrified.”

“Me too.”

“I’m—I’m happy you’re my brother. I’m happy I have you.”

Mako released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding when Bolin responded, “Me too.”


	3. Chapter 3

**_11._ ** _"Think we should do it?”_

“Mako. Hey, Mako.” Bolin was jabbing him in the back, trying to get his attention. “That guy’s bag looks real heavy.”

Mako looked up across the small street. They’d moved away from the square, finding a small hole in the city streets where it was easier to steal food, and Bolin’s improved earthbending did a better of keeping them hidden. There was a man strolling along, a duffle bag the size of the brothers slung over his shoulder. They watched him enter and exit shops.

Bolin mostly noticed the bag. Mako noticed the way the man walked as though he owned the entire street.

“What do you think he’s carrying?” Bolin asked.

“Dunno. Wanna go get it?” Mako answered.

They split up, Mako hanging back near a small alleyway entrance while Bolin darted across the street, ducking behind a stand. He waited until the man went a few paces past Mako, then nudged the earth in the man’s path just enough to make him trip.

Mako was on the bag before the man had even hit the ground, unzipping it to find more money than he’d ever seen in his life. Realizing there was no way he was going to be able to carry the bag himself, he grabbed as much as he could and was gone before the man had gotten back up.

It seemed odd how quiet everything around him had suddenly gotten. Normally their neighbourhood was boisterous well into the night, so daytime silence was out of place. Mako heard his own heartbeat as he took off down the alley, emerging on another street and running a jagged path.

Suddenly the earth under his feet turned to ice, and he slid directly into a wall. He threw the bricks of bills he had off to the side and whirled around to meet a jet of water coming at him, knocking his small body right back into the wall.

Mako coughed, looking up through his soaked bangs when the water stopped to find the man. Bolin was right behind him, kicking up the earth under his feet and causing the man to stumble. Bolin rushed to Mako’s side.

The man quickly regained his footing and gathered up the ice on the ground, shaping it to a volley of icicles he sent at the brothers. Mako willed fire to his dry fingertips, melting the ice before it pierced him and his brother. He fought his way to shaky feet, chest heaving, realizing he wasn’t going to win this fight.

The man seemed to realize it as well because he stopped. Smirking, he calmly approached the brothers, hand held out.

“I’d appreciate it if you could return what you stole from me,” he said.

Mako glared. The man’s voice lost its jovial tone. “Don’t test me, kids. You know what you’re dealing with.”

Bolin looked back to his brother, waiting to see what he would do. Mako waited a beat before lowering his head in submission, pointing in the general direction he’d thrown the bills.

The man made a disapproving sound. “Get it for me,” he said. Mako moved slowly, looking through the shadows for everything he’d thrown.

Bolin remained in a firm stance, watching the man, ready to try anything. The man looked down at him and laughed. “There’s no need for that, kid. Your friend’s cooperating, and ‘cause you two are so scrawny and pathetic, I’ll let you guys off with a warning.”

“My brother,” Bolin said.

“What?”

“He’s my brother,” Bolin said as Mako came back, head bowed, holding out the money. The man took it with a raised eyebrow.

“Thanks, kids. Word of advice: don’t pull stunts like that, not when you’re this small.” He turned and left them without another word, returning to his original path.

Mako, slumping to the ground, watched him go. “My face hurts,” he growled. “He made me crash right into a wall.”

Bolin grinned, pulling a small stack of bills from his shirt. “Well, then let’s eat big tonight.”

Mako laughed, reaching out his hand for Bolin to help him up.

 

**_11._ ** _“No.”_

Mako had done the math, figuring if they played this right and didn’t run into any unforeseen circumstances, they’d be able to comfortably eat for a few months. They kept the money in a safe Bolin made out of the walls of their new shelter, bigger and hidden away in a shady alleyway.

During the day, their street was foods, clothes, and trinkets. At night, it was bars, drugs, and gambling. They’d moved to get away from other street kids – Bolin had made the call after Mako had picked one fight too many, and Mako agreed, thanking his brother – and to find a bigger space.

They were aware of the debauchery around them. They were okay with it, because they stayed hidden at night anyway. Besides, Mako had reasoned, as they got older, they probably wouldn’t be able to escape it. It was better to normalize it now, so they wouldn’t be caught off guard when it mattered.

They were approached during the day.

Mako and Bolin were lounging on a street curb, taking the time to enjoy the sun in a rare moment when they didn’t need to worry about their immediate futures, when another waterbender approached them. He took a seat next to Bolin, who looked at him warily and shifted towards Mako. Mako looked up at him curiously.

“Hey there, boys,” the new man said. “Name’s Shin, but my friends call me Shady.”

“Hi?” Bolin responded, sliding further towards his brother. Mako narrowed his eyes, but didn’t say anything otherwise.

“You took something from a friend of mine, but I think you know that,” Shin said.

“We’re not giving it back,” Mako said in a low voice, shifting his position to make it easier for him to get up and fight at a moment’s notice.

Shin laughed. “Wasn’t expecting you to, kiddo.” He looked over the brothers. “What’re you two doing out here, anyway? This isn’t a good place for kids as small as you two.”

“We live here,” Bolin said.

“ _Here?_ ” Shin asked. Mako nodded, tense. Shin whistled. “Wow. Why here?”

“Convenience. Lots of room,” Mako said.

“Nobody ever bugs us,” Bolin said.

“’Til now,” Mako added, glaring. Shin grinned.

Mako jumped up. He balled his hands into fists, fire rising from them as he did so. “What do you want?” he snapped, Bolin falling back to give his brother space.

Shin raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m not here to fight,” he said, staying sitting. Mako standing was just barely taller than him, but was stick-thin and too ragged to look intimidating, with bony limbs, sunken eyes, and a bright red scarf that was clearly too big. The older man looked him over, noting the calm focus behind the aggression. “I’m here to make you an offer.”

Bolin rolled back up at this, joining his brother in a standing position. He wasn’t much shorter, but his lessened height made him look a little less sickly. “You’re not with the Red Monsoons?” he asked, big eyes looking more innocent than they had any right to.

“Nope,” Shin shook his head. “Wouldn’t talk to you two if I was.”

“Triple Threat,” Mako breathed, fire disappearing to smoke and then nothingness.

Shin nodded at him. “Bingo.” He looked them over. “You know, you two ain’t bad benders for your age. Real potential there,” he said. “You’re cute kids, too. Easy for people to trust. How long you been out on the streets?”

“’Bout three years,” Mako said.

“Just you two?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s pretty good,” Shin said. “You ever ripped people off? Before my friend the other day, I mean.”

“Gotta.”

“’Course you gotta,” Shin said. “You aren’t old enough to do much more than beg, and you ain’t living three years off begging. Ain’t nobody gonna give you honest work. Which is why I’ve got an offer for you.”

“No,” Bolin said.

Both Mako and Shin turned to him questioningly. “No?” Shin asked.

Bolin shook his head. “No,” he repeated. “We can’t join a gang.”

Shin looked up at Mako. “That true, buddy?”

Mako stayed silent. Bolin crossed his arms as if that solidified it. “Sorry, sir,” he said, “but we made it this far on our own. We don’t need to become criminals.”

“Technically, you’re already criminals,” Shin said, not taking his eyes off Mako’s face. Mako resisted the urge to shuffle uncomfortably under the scrutiny. He put all his energy into keeping his face as expressionless as possible, a total mask. Because he wanted to do what Bolin wanted, but he knew Bolin was wrong, and that whatever it was this Shady Shin was offering… even if the nickname seemed foreboding, it was probably going to be the best thing that would happen to them since their parents’ murder.

But Bo was shaking his head. He didn’t want it. And if Bo didn’t want it, they couldn’t do it.

So Mako steeled himself, and despite the sinking feeling in his gut, said, “Not that bad, though. It’s petty crime… It’s never more than what we need.”

Shin nodded in understanding. “You wouldn’t do anything bad for us,” he said. “You’d just be helping us out. And in turn, we’d help you.”

“But you hurt people,” Bolin said. “We don’t hurt people.”

Mako nodded.

He didn’t burn people.

He didn’t manipulate his element to cause pain and destruction.

He kept it under control. Bolin helped him when he couldn’t. He didn’t know what kind of person he would turn into if he joined a criminal organization.

Shin smirked, and Mako knew he had lost in that moment. He knew the man could sense the doubt in his mind. He knew it was over – it was just a matter of when.

“Fair enough,” the older man said, resting his hands on his knees as he pushed himself up. He towered over the brothers, clearly well fed, fitting in his own skin, and strong. He was well dressed, probably lived in a nice house; not some sealed off cube in an alleyway where smoke found its way through the cracks. “I’m sure you’ll find me when you change your minds.”

“We won’t,” Bolin called after him as Mako sat back down on the curb, head in his hands.

 

**_12._ ** _“You’re hungry. I’m hungry. I give up.”_

Things weren’t going well.

Fights he couldn’t win, damage borne from keeping it away from Bolin. Too many things stolen from them. Him, not able to grow into his own body as he started inheriting his mother’s height, sunken eyes and jutting ribs as he tried to support his family of two.

Bolin had taken to enforcing their dawn and dusk bending practices, taking over their direction and throwing in frequent light sparring efforts as he continued to try to gear them towards a career in pro-bending. He’d dreamed of it for years, but only became fixated once he realized that despite everything, it was absolutely possible for somebody in their positions to make it, even if it was a long shot.

“Everyone loves an underdog,” he’d proclaimed, kicking up a rock and directing it towards his brother’s centre of mass. “They’d love us,” he’d continued as Mako dodged to the side, letting the rock fly harmlessly past him. “Okay, now here’s where I’d try sending a disk around from the side to get you, like, right away, so be on the lookout for something like that…”

Mako wasn’t so much interested in future stardom as he was in immediate gratification; that was, basic survival. Things had been okay to start. He’d been able to bury the lingering doubt under Bolin’s optimism, and with their savings, they were able to spend some time being actual kids.

Until someone ambushed him in a public square, giving him a black eye, broken nose, noticeable limp, and probably some internal problems he had no way of knowing about, and they’d had to pay out of pocket to put him under care of a backdoor waterhealer a guy who knew a guy knew.

Until Bolin got caught in a rainstorm and things had gotten touch and go, leaving Mako to give up food for his brother’s sake, spending his time out of their shelter so he didn’t catch anything, doing his best to provide solo on sleepless nights.

Until they’d gotten caught on the edge of a territorial dispute, hiding away until it was safe to vacate the area, and Mako found what he’d seen didn’t look so bad. It wasn’t the nightmare Bolin seemed convinced it was, not to him. It was just life.

Getting his ass kicked more than once had ignited a slow burn in him; a cold, distant rage at their general circumstances that flared up every time he and his brother proved themselves too weak, too incapable, and too close to death’s door. Otherwise he just tried to keep things clean, not let things get to him, conserve his energy and not think about it too much.

They were so much worse off than they had been a year ago. Mako would just sleep on the ground now, curling up his lanky limbs so as to ensure he could fit. He didn’t want any of the tattered remnants of what they’d left home with. He continued to wear the scarf, now fraying a bit at the edges, more out of habit than anything else. The smell of smoke had never quite left it, not to him.

Thunder crashed overhead and Bolin sighed, closing up the ventilation he’d bent into their shelter’s roof for the muggy summer nights. He flopped over in the corner, leaning his head back against the uneven walls. “Well, tonight’s gonna suck.”

Mako grunted in agreement. It was already too dark out for much light to really make its way through, and he wasn’t going to bring fire into what was already a sauna.

“Gonna just turn in early, or you got anything on your mind?”

Mako always had stuff on his mind.

He knew Bolin would object, so he didn’t say any of what he was actually thinking, though.

He looked upwards, hearing the pitter-patter of rain starting on their roof. “You remember that time a storm knocked the power out?”

“ _Yes!_ ” Bolin cried, sitting up. “Dad was so mad, it was hilarious. And then he and Mom set up a tent in the living room, and we got to camp out indoors…”

“They let us eat cake for dinner,” Mako added on. “Like, the night was already ruined, so we had to overcompensate by making it awesome.”

“Mom let you make a small campfire.” Bolin paused. “In the stove,” he laughed. Mako smiled.

“You came up with all these ghost stories, but could never finish them ‘cause you kept getting distracted…”

“… And then Dad one-upped me and freaked out both of us…”

“… So Mom let us stay up late and listen to the radio until we fell asleep on our own.”

“Yeah,” Bolin sighed. “I didn’t realize how much I missed radio until just now.”

Rain and the occasional thunder clap were the only sounds they were privy to. Lightning flashes that penetrated their home only strengthened Mako’s resolve, turning his hands over and over and feeling an itch under his skin he couldn’t scratch.

When the rain stopped and the sun rose, he slipped out, leaving Bolin behind. He trotted down the streets of their neighbourhood, asking still sleepy shopkeepers who were too tired to argue and eventually pointed him in the right direction.

“Shady Shin?” he asked at the door.

 

**_12._ ** _“Don’t touch him.”_

“Just you?”

“Just me.”

“Hm,” Shin said, leaning back in his seat. “Your brother’s cuter, no offence. You work better as a package deal.”

Mako stood up straight. “He didn’t want to come,” he said.

“Does he know you’re here?”

Mako remained silent. Shin smirked. “’S what I thought,” he said. He looked Mako up and down, taking in the thin frame and deadly serious face. “I’m sure we can work something out, though.”

“Leave him alone,” Mako growled. “If he doesn’t want to be here, you don’t talk to him.”

Shin barked out a laugh at that. “You giving me orders, kid? Mighty big for a—How old are you, anyway?”

Mako hesitated. “Fifteen.”

Shin gave him a sceptical, pitying look. “Don’t bullshit me, kid. Maybe you’d be able to pass for fifteen if you lived in an actual home, but then you wouldn’t be here, would ya?”

Mako met Shin’s eyes. Quickly retreated to his feet and the polished floor they stood on, cleaner than much else he’d seen in years. “… Twelve,” he finally said, not looking back up.

“And there goes your bravado,” Shin said, spreading his arms. “So then, kid—“

“Mako.”

“—Mako,” Shin continued, “what can you do?”

“I can firebend,” he said, looking not quite at the floor, not quite at Shin’s face. Shin snorted, and that made Mako look up. “What?”

Shin just shrugged. “You and a third of the guys here,” he said. “You’re a kid, kiddo. I can’t exactly send you out to collect debts or enforce threats. Can you act? You ain’t as cute as your brother, but you’re still small enough, you should be able to pull it off.” Mako shook his head. “What is it, then?” The legs of Shin’s chair hit the ground with a thud as he righted both it and himself. “You been living off your brother’s earnings, that it?”

Mako didn’t raise his head, but he did meet Shin’s eyes. “I’m smart,” he said. “We live on a tiny budget, but we’re almost never without. Because I know numbers. I know what we can get away with and when we can and can’t take risks. I protect my brother, and I keep us fed. Every day.”

“Yeah?” Shin asked, looking him over. “You seemed like the smarter one, no offence to him. Hm.” He pulled Mako aside. “See, we run gambling operations here too. You know about betting and odds?”

“You fix stuff, don’t you?”

Shin suddenly clapped him on the back, causing him to stumble forward. “I like you, Mako. You ready to learn the ropes of the ground floor?”

Mako stayed silent, mulling his thoughts over. But unlike with Bolin, he actually decided to voice them this time.

“If I… If I wanted to get into the… collection. Later. When I’m bigger. Could I?”

Shin laughed. “I gotta introduce you to Zolt, he’s gonna love you. Don’t fuck up today and we’ll see what happens.”

 

_**12.** _

Bolin was not happy.

He was used to waking up alone. Mako was good at getting up early and staying up late; he was good at neither, but he reasoned that he was younger and had had fewer chances to beg his parents to let him stay up later (and no justification of “But I’m older!” to back him up), so it made sense. But Mako would always come back for their morning practices, at least.

He didn’t see him all day. Bolin wasn’t sure if he should leave their shelter to look for him or go about his own day, or if he should wait in case Mako came back and needed somebody. He settled for staying in the immediate area, liberating the smallest of fruit from the corners of nearby stands to give him his day’s energy, waiting. Nobody gave him the time of day, and he found himself drifting between loneliness and anger.

“Where aaaarrreee yooooouuuuu,” Bolin whined to the street when the sun started to go down and streetlights came on. He sat on top of their roof, dangling his feet as he watched shopkeepers close up for the day, saw people maybe ten years his senior start to flood the streets and establishments he didn’t dare set foot near.

He stayed out even when it was totally dark out, half falling asleep on hollowed out rock halfway back in an alleyway. Coloured lights blurred in his half-lidded vision when he caught bright red, close to the ground, weaving its way through crowded streets. Bolin jumped down, his feet just dusting the ground as he ran out to meet it.

Mako stumbled back in the sudden hug. He was too surprised to think to return it, leaving his arms hanging limply at his sides and his chin hovering just over Bolin’s shoulder as adults swerved around them.

“Uh… Bo?”

“Where were you?!” Bolin demanded, pulling back and dragging his brother back into the alleyway. “I didn’t see you all day!”

Mako cringed. “Shit. Sorry.” When he was met with nothing but Bolin’s stare, his expression shifted from shamed to confused. “What? What is it?”

Bolin just shook his head. “Where were you?” he asked again, looking over his brother. He didn’t look hurt in any way; if anything, he seemed more comfortable and confident than before.

Mako bit his lip. “I was… out.”

“ _Duh,_ ” Bolin rolled his eyes. “Out _where_?” He continued to stare at his brother, as if that would either make him tell him, or at least give him clues.

Mako rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, stalling. He pulled Bolin further into the alley, bringing them up against the corner of their shelter and the wall that helped support it before twisting his body, exposing the pouch hidden under layers on his hip. He nodded towards it.

“Did you eat today? Because there are probably still places open if you didn’t—“

“Where did you get that?” Bolin cut him off.

“I, uh,” Mako started, rubbing the back of his neck before dropping his voice, “wenttoseeShadyShin.”

Bolin wasn’t sure how to handle that. On one hand, he was upset, because that was something they _weren’t supposed to do_. Things hadn’t been great, he’d been able to understand that despite Mako’s best efforts, but they hadn’t been _bad_ … Or at least he didn’t think they’d been. Maybe Mako was better at hiding stuff than he knew, which was something else Bolin wasn’t certain how he felt about, because on the one hand it was noble but on the other hand he wanted to be and felt like his brother’s equal—

On the other hand, Mako didn’t look hurt, and he didn’t look like he’d gotten into any fights. He looked totally fine, maybe even better. He stood taller, as though he was starting to embrace his body’s growth. And he’d brought back money.

Bolin just fixated his brother with a blank stare, causing Mako to squirm even more. “It wasn’t anything bad!” he cried out. “I just helped them collect bets on tonight’s pro-bending match. That was it, that was all I did. And they gave me some of their cut. And I can go back and do it again, if that’s okay…”

So nobody had gotten hurt. He didn’t think that’s what it would have been like, but—

Bolin’s stomach growled. Both brothers looked down in unison, Bolin blushing and Mako moving away, letting his coat fall over the pouch again.

“Uh…”

“So… Dinner?” Mako weakly supplied, still unsure of what his brother thought.

Bolin looked back out at the street. “Should we go out? I mean, it’s dark and—“

Mako brushed him off. “It’s not that bad,” he said, starting to lead the way, shoulders straightened and step confident. “You just gotta walk like you know where you’re going, and people will get out of your way.” Bolin ran after him, looking up, starting to really see the two years Mako had on him for the first time.

“Do you know where we’re going?” he asked.

“Nope,” Mako replied, smiling. “But I figure there’s gotta be something back around the square. Or the arena, ‘cause matches just ended and places would want to stay open for customers.”

“You were at the arena?” Bolin asked, staring up in wonder. “Did you get to watch?”

“A little,” Mako said.

“If you get to go again, can I come this time?” Bolin was forgetting his anxiety and agitation from before, excitement coursing through his veins now. “Can we make it?”

Mako made a small noise. “Would… Would you be okay with joining the Triple Threats? Because you’d have to, I mean, I got in by doing stuff for them today. And Shady Shin invited me in with him, so, I think I might be a member now, or something…” His voice got quieter as he went on, as though voicing this out loud just made it real for the very first time.

Bolin fell silent to think it over. It didn’t take much thought, though: actually getting into the arena would be a monumental leap forward, and maybe he’d get to meet someone who could actually help them. And Mako looked like he’d had a totally peaceful day. _And_ he’d gotten money out of it.

And walking by his brother’s side through Republic City at night, it wasn’t as bad as it had seemed. He wanted to help out, take more responsibility, grow up a little more.

“If I’m just doing what you’re doing,” he finally said, “then it’s gotta be fine, right? You didn’t do anything bad today?”

“No!” Mako said happily. “Literally all I did was talk to people. That was it.”

Bolin laughed. “I’m better at that than you.” He sped up. “Yeah, I’m in.”


	4. Chapter 4

**_13._ ** _“I can do it.”_

Things had done a complete 360 over the past two years: from good, to bad, to good again. Maybe even better, Mako thought, able to see a future for himself for the first time in years.

Bolin saw them pro-bending. Mako saw himself still with the Triple Threats, and Bolin happy and healthy. The latter was all he really wanted; the former, well, if it would ensure it, then it was fine.

Besides, things really weren’t that bad. They’d moved shelters again, daring to take up more space and assert themselves, even if it was still in a small street corner. They were firmly in Triple Threat territory now, and it was probably as safe as they’d ever been. Bolin had been able to manipulate the earth to give them even more space. They didn’t quite have room to stand upright, but they had a fire pit, ventilation, and isolation.

They also had a relatively steady source of income now, although there were still plenty of moments when the gang had no use for them, and the two were forced to resort to petty theft and schemes to fill their bellies another day.

But those moments were so much fewer and further between now, and they just had more time in general. Stress Mako didn’t even know he’d been carrying had completely left him, and everything was tinged with hope. The two spent more and more of their spare time practicing their bending, often spending entire days at the park alternating between sunbathing and practicing in a space where they had so much more room (and got really good at fleeing when Bolin tore the ground up too much or Mako accidentally set something on fire and they were chased out by the police).

Mako had even managed to work his way up through the gang, his need to be grown up and his desire to be the best elevating him to access to the books, studying under the bookkeeper and ensuring everything was correct. He’d eyed the bookkeeper one or two times, just as he’d been eyed, trying to determine if he was capable of stealing from the gang, or if it’d even be worth it. He very quickly nixed the idea, although he didn’t feel bad about entertaining it.

They’d gotten to go to the occasional pro-bending match, where Bolin’s genuine excitement often entertained the higher ups that granted them access. He’d trended more in that direction, while Mako was starting to spend more and more time in the clubhouse. Despite his age, he was starting to feel less and less out of place.

He was the only one in, sitting in a back corner tidying up some final numbers late at night, when someone else entered. Mako ignored the sound, fixated on the book before him, before a voice cut through the silence.

“Anyone else around?”

Mako looked up. The lounge was completely empty except for him and the other man, dressed darkly and of a slightly small stature.

“Unless someone’s in the backroom,” he shrugged, going back to his book.

The man walked through, rapping his knuckles against the backdoors. He waited a moment, but nothing happened. He sighed and turned back, approaching Mako.

“You a bender, kid?”

Mako didn’t look up. “Fire.”

“Me too. C’mon,” the man said, “I got a little thing to take care of and need a bit of backup.”

This time Mako looked up. He swallowed nervously. “Uh, me?”

The man sighed loudly. “You see anyone else around? Put that away and let’s go,” he snapped. The tone of his voice forced Mako into action, getting him on his feet and throwing the book under the backroom door’s crack right away. The man was already out the door and had one foot in a Satomobile when Mako caught up to him.

“Uh, sir—“

“Name’s Ping,” the man cut through impatiently, starting it up.

“Uh, Mako,” Mako responded awkwardly, sliding in. “Uh.” _Get it together, man._ “Where are we going?”

“Got word someone who owes us a lot of money is planning on skipping town tonight,” Ping said, not sparing him a glance. “Gonna go cut him off, make sure he settles his debts before he goes.”

“Oh,” Mako replied dumbly. He sat in silence the rest of the way, heart pounding in his chest. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen, this wasn’t part of the plan—

 _You’re in a gang, dumbass,_ he thought to himself. _You knew this would happen._ He stared out at the road. _This is exactly what you wanted._

_That was before—_

His internal rebuttal stopped there. He had asked about it. He didn’t really know anyone who outranked Shin, but he’d asked him if he could do this one day. He didn’t think it would be this soon, and wasn’t entirely sure if he should actually be doing this, but Ping was definitely his superior and he didn’t have the time or wherewithal to question him.

Maybe he wouldn’t have to do anything.

A small part of him – the parts that weren’t terrified and full of regret – was really, really excited, though.

Ping brought them screeching to a halt right in front of an apartment complex. Mako’s heart didn’t even have time to sink as he watched him run around and to the front doors; he simply shifted himself into autopilot and ran after him.

The doors burst open and Mako ducked on instinct. He saw the flash of a blade and watched Ping jerk to the side, but not fast enough as it cut him on the side of his face, leaving a thin wound down past his eye. At the same time, he kicked out, dislodging the knife from his attacker’s grasp and sending it flying to the ground.

The attacker, a big, burly man with eyes that matched their own didn’t waste any time, shoving the bleeding Ping to the side and, upon spotting Mako, throwing fire in his direction.

Mako could feel his heart pounding as he parted the flames, and didn’t even think when he sent his own volley back, just shutting his brain off and doing what his body told him.

Sparring with Bolin had gotten him used to an up-tempo style – it was one of the few things Bolin always insisted upon, leaving them both breathless before either even scored a hit – and he fell into that rhythm, sliding to the side before jumping up and sending a fresh wave out with an arcing kick. It went high and dissipated against the building, sending small chips of the structure raining down.

By this point Ping had gotten back up and was attacking from behind, one eye completely shut against the blood flow. They had the rogue firebender sandwiched between them, and Mako was beyond exhilarated, adrenaline having completely replaced his earlier fear.

The man looked back and forth between them. Mako assumed a stance and called fire to his hands, waiting to see what the next move would be, ready to react appropriately. Bolin could get vicious when he got really into it – he was ready.

He jumped away from a massive blast sent his way, landing back as it hit the Satomobile instead. Mako coughed in the ensuing smoke, blindly launching attacks in the direction he could just see the man’s large silhouette fleeing, unsure and unwilling to pursue on foot.

One of his blasts hit the ground at the man’s feet, turning up dust and rock and causing him to stumble. Ping shot past him and was on the man in a moment, one hand pressing against his eye and the other holding the man’s own knife to his throat.

Mako hung back, unsure of what he was supposed to do in this situation. He was too far back to hear what was going on, but not so far back as to see the man’s ankles bent at impossible angles. He barely had time to realize that he’d done that before seeing the body briefly jerk before silence.

He stared through the fast-clearing smoke, unable to take his eyes away. Ping dropped the knife and stood, dusting his knees off with his one free hand before turning back to Mako.

“Not bad, kid,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of the complex’s entrance. “Now let’s go get what we came for.”

Mako hesitated, the lone soul on the street before he followed.

 

 **_13._ ** _“I want to learn.”_

He didn’t breathe a word of it to Bolin.

He didn’t breathe a word of it to anybody.

The next time he entered the gang’s headquarters he’d spotted the bookkeeper at the bar and quietly made a beeline for him, pulling himself up into the unoccupied stool next to him. The man barely acknowledged him, simply sliding him some miscellaneous papers. Mako leaned over to grab a pen and buried himself in the numbers.

Life went on behind him. Bolin had sidled up to a table a group of Triple Threats had gathered around, making his way to the front to get a perfect view for an ongoing Pai Sho game. Money and drinks were tossed around and conversation freely flowed. Mako blocked it all out, focusing on the cold, hard, unfeeling math he was now partially responsible for.

Numbers didn’t judge, or maim, or kill. Numbers didn’t care. They were soothing, and gave Mako the chance to forget and block out everything else around him. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d loved them.

He didn’t realize anything else was going on until he felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him roughly. Mako’s head jerked up. He pulled his shoulder in towards himself and met the eyes of Lightning Bolt Zolt.

“Kid, when I’m talking to you, you best listen.”

Mako swallowed. “Sorry sir, I was just,” he gestured towards the work before him, “um,” and fell silent. Zolt stared for a while before suddenly cracking a grin. Mako didn’t know what he was supposed to feel.

“This who you brought with you?” Zolt asked Ping, who Mako realized was with them.

“Yeah.”

“What is he, twelve?”

“Thirteen,” Mako muttered under his breath. Nobody heard him.

“And he actually did a good job?”

“I’m telling you, boss,” Ping said, and it was just then Mako noticed the eye patch and bandage on the side of his face, “I couldn’t have done it without him. He stopped the guy from getting away while I regained my bearings. Top notch job, too. Didn’t break a sweat.”

Mako resisted the urge to squirm under their gazes. He hoped Bolin hadn’t noticed what was happening. “Hm,” Zolt said, looking Mako up and down. “That true, kid? You go out, stop a thief? Ping ain’t lying for your sake?”

“No, sir,” Mako released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “I was alone… Mr. Ping” – Ping grinned broadly at that – “said he needed help, told me to come with him. I… helped stop the guy.”

“He mangled his feet,” Ping chimed in. “Guy probably wouldn’t have been able to even walk again.” Mako felt sick at the revelation – _Then why did you kill him?_ The question reverberated in his mind. He looked past the two firebenders, seeking Bolin. He was still immersed in the game. Mako looked back up at his superiors.

Zolt stroked his chin. “You think we have something here?” he asked, and Mako got the sense his opinion didn’t matter.

Ping nodded. “Yeah, for sure. Kid was freaked out at first, but when it came down to business, he snapped right out of it. He didn’t know what to do, but that, he can learn. He was calm when it mattered.”

Mako could remember following Ping into the building after, numb all over. It was deathly silent in the entire building, but he knew people had to be awake; there was no way the fighting hadn’t woken some of the residents up. He’d trotted up the stairs after his superior, looking at the doors through his peripheral vision.

He’d felt eyes all over him. He’d brought his scarf up to his face, inhaling the smoke, hiding.

A sudden clap on his back sent Mako lunging forward, his chest smacking against the bar’s edge. “Well then!” Zolt said happily, spinning his stool around so Mako was facing him proper. “Come with me, kid, let’s get started. What’s your name?”

“Mako,” Mako said, slowly slipping off the stool. It was too tall for him, and he was in free fall for a moment before his feet touched the ground. He stared up at Zolt, trying to school his face into a neutral expression.

Zolt gestured for him to follow him into one of the back rooms. “And who brought you on, Mako?” he asked, opening a door to a large, empty room.

“Shady Shin,” he answered, feeling self-conscious at being alone in a room with the leader of the Triple Threat Triad. He worked to keep his expression blank, refusing to show awe or fear.

“Yeah? And how’d he find you?”

Mako was silent.

“It’s okay,” Zolt said, and if Mako didn’t know better, he’d detected a softness in his voice. “You ain’t gonna get in trouble or nothin’.”

“We stole from someone else… got into a fight… Shin found us a few days later. Invited us. Eventually we joined.”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

“My brother and I,” Mako answered. “He’s younger than me. Earthbender.”

“Bolin?” Zolt asked, and Mako jerked at the sound of his brother’s name. Zolt laughed. “The kid always coming to matches with us? He’s a good kid. You two’re brothers?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I can see the resemblance, now that you point it out,” Zolt said. “Mixed family. Cute. You’re definitely a firebender, though.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright then,” Zolt pulled up a chair against the wall to sit on. “Show me what you can do, and we’ll go from there.”

 

 **_13._ ** _“He’s a good teacher."_

They didn’t practice together anymore.

“You find someone there to teach you earthbending?”

“Nah,” Bolin waved a hand. “They all start, and then they tell me, ‘No, Bolin, you’re doing it wrong. No, Bolin, you need to be firmer. Fix your stance, Bolin. Stay your ground, Bolin. Bolin, I can’t help you if you don’t listen to me. Bolin, you’re hopeless. Get outta here, Bolin.’” He scrunched his nose. “They’re no fun. And they aren’t open to alternative styles _at all_. I don’t wanna learn their earthbending. I’d be a sitting turtle duck if I did it that way.”

Mako paused mid-bite of his apple. “What?”

“Pro-bending, bro,” Bolin rolled his eyes.

“Oh. Right.” Mako chewed. “Well.” Swallowed. “You should still find a master. You’ll get way better way faster.”

“Right,” Bolin said, poking at their fire pit with a stick he’d found at the park, where he now often practiced solo. “How’s it going with Zolt? Can’t believe the leader of one of the biggest gangs in the biggest city in the world is teaching my brother,” he added on under his breath. Mako glared.

“It’s going good,” he said. “I’m learning a lot. That’s why I’m saying, get a master, and listen to him.”

Bolin snorted. “What’s he see in you, anyway?”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Bolin held his hands and the stick up in mock defence. “I just mean, he’s like, one of the most powerful people in the world, right? And you always said we were just street kids nobody would care about.”

“I dunno,” Mako shrugged. “Natural talent?” he lied. He saw mangled feet. He’d done that and hadn’t felt anything.

 

 _**13.** _ _“Stop!”_

“Mako!” Zolt called him.

Mako looked up, away from the table where Shin was giving him and his brother a lesson in Pai Sho. He apologized and trotted over to his firebending teacher. “Sir?” he asked as Zolt led him into the backroom.

“You’ve gotten better,” Zolt said, appraising him.

“Thank you, sir,” Mako said. He didn’t smile or fluster under the praise, the first Zolt had ever given him.

That seemed to please him because he smiled, showing teeth. “You ever tried to lightningbend, Mako?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Mako responded. Zolt’s eyebrows shot up.

“And how’d it go?”

“I know I can do it,” Mako said, standing taller. “I just haven’t been able to yet, but I know I can. I’ve felt it.”

Zolt nodded. “You know what they call me, right, kid?”

“Yes, sir.” Zolt waited. “Lightning Bolt Zolt, sir,” Mako said.

“Well, Mako,” Zolt said, “you ready to lightningbend?”

Mako’s body numbed, but he could feel a small smile creeping its way on his face. Years of dreaming, followed by years of knowing it would be a necessity… “Yes, sir.”

“Alright, then,” Zolt said, stepping to the back of the room, motioning for Mako to join him. “Do what I do,” he continued, assuming a stance, nodding when Mako mimicked him. “Tell me what you know already.”

Mako took a deep breath. “You gotta be calm,” he said, moving alongside Zolt. “You can’t do it if you’re unbalanced. Its roots are in firebending, so you gotta feel the energy around you.” He recalled Iroh’s words, passages that finally made sense to him. “There’s… positive and negative, and you have to find it, and split them apart. And then it’ll come.”

“Are you calm, Mako?”

“Yes, sir,” Mako said. He tended to keep his emotions closed off unless he was around Bolin, and even then, it was getting hard. He thought of the dead body in the street. He pushed the thought away, refusing to let it disrupt him.

“You always calm?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You can’t see yourself fight, I know,” Zolt said, shifting to another form. Mako could feel a charge building in the air. “I took you because Ping said when you and he was fighting, he said you didn’t even have an expression on your face. You just fought. And you won.”

“Yes, sir,” Mako said. He could feel something building up within him, an energy desperate to be let out. He ignored it and continued following Zolt’s movements. “Thank you, sir.”

He startled when sparks shot from his fingertips. Mako abandoned his form on instinct, standing up straight and looking at his hands, which had stopped. He could still feel the energy inside him, but it wasn’t pressing to get out as badly anymore. He looked up at Zolt, who had also stopped.

Zolt smiled. “Congrats, kid. Now let’s learn to control that reaction. Back at it, right now.”

Mako nodded and followed suit.

He started spending most of his days in the backroom, wiping himself of thoughts and feelings for most of the day. He was often too spent, emotionally and physically, to do much when he’d return to his and Bolin’s makeshift home for the night. Mako could see his brother was worried about him, but he was too exhausted to care.

Bolin had to know what he was learning by now. He would understand.

It was for him. It was worth it.

He didn’t have much to show for his efforts yet, simply learning to feel the energies within him and direct them. On occasion he would produce sparks, but not much more. He was patient, though. He’d had too much respect for the technique for too long to look for any shortcuts now.

Zolt, on the other hand, seemed exasperated.

“Tell me,” he said one day, “what do you plan on doing with your lightningbending?”

Mako breathed deep, exhaled. “Protect my little brother.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s the only reason I needed to learn it,” Mako said. He turned inwards, feeling the paths of energy making their way throughout his body. “We’ve had too many close calls on the streets. If I can do this, we won’t have those anymore. Nobody will even try.”

“What,” Zolt said, “being a Triple Threat isn’t good enough for your reputation?”

Mako paused. He remained still for a while before finding his answer, “I have to look out for other Triads now.”

“Smart,” Zolt said. He got up, circling around Mako. “Because you work for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I didn’t teach you as an act of charity,” Zolt continued. “There’s no charity here, kid. You know that.” He stopped in front of him, looking down on the teenager. “You’re going to be using this for me.”

Mako’s blood ran cold. He maintained his composure. “Yes, sir.”

“Time to show me if you’ve learned anything,” Zolt said. “You know how redirection works?”

“Yes, sir,” Mako said. He pushed his dread aside, felt as though he was separated from his body. He maintained a connection to his chi, though – feeling the energy within him and nothing more.

“Good,” Zolt said, assuming a stance. “Your heart will explode if you don’t, and I’m not cleaning you up.”

Sparks flew from Zolt’s fingertips before they converged into a massive concentration of electrical energy. Mako barely had time to react before he had his own hand out, ready to meet it. He gasped as he felt the shock, his legs buckling under himself as he forced himself to concentrate on his chi, remembering Iroh’s words, doing his best to direct it down, up, out. He raised his other hand, briefly pointed at Zolt, but the energy within him forced his arm off to the side before lightning emerged from it. It arced towards the wall, blackening it upon impact.

It stopped. Mako felt all of his energy leave him. He collapsed to the ground, curling up into a ball and shaking.

Everything he’d felt before had been his own energy. It was raw, but it was his, and it was never too much. It may have made him uncomfortable and impatient, but it was never overwhelming.

Barely grounding himself and trying to control someone else’s energy – someone so much stronger, so much better than him – had been too much. He choked out a sob, breaking his control for the first time in what felt like forever.

Zolt stood above him. Kicked him. “Remember,” he said, “you work for me. You’ll do what I tell you. And if you’re old enough to lightningbend, you’re old enough to do whatever I say.” He leaned down, forcing Mako into a sitting position, looking directly into his eyes. “You’ll keep working on numbers, collecting bets, everything it is anyone else tells you to do.

“But be ready for when I call on you. Lightning isn’t just for protecting your kid brother. Ain’t a lot of people that can do it, even here.”

He stood up, making his way towards the door. Mako watched him warily, but made no moves himself.

“You’re one of the lucky ones,” Zolt said over his shoulder. He opened the door. “Pick yourself up and come back out when you’re ready.” He shut it, leaving him alone.

Mako slumped back to the floor, squeezing his eyes shut and hyperventilating, still feeling aftershocks course through him.

_It’s worth it. It’s worth it. It’s worth it. For Bolin, it’s worth it._

This wasn’t what he’d dreamed of, wasn’t what he’d idealized, wasn’t what he’d wanted.


End file.
